What lurks in the shadows
by wouldbewriter23
Summary: Their home was burned to the ground while his father and many of the men of their village were away. While his father and a small group hunt for the taken and their captors, a number of strange occurrences leave Jack wondering why they were taken. And what exactly it was that took them. Previously 'A Guardian's Heart, A Warriors Soul, A Family's Love', by wolfwind97
1. Chapter 1

**I know I'm still working on Immortal Memories ( and if you're just reading my works, I ask you to please read the others, it means so much to me) but when I saw the original story was up for adoption, I thought 'I have so much to work with on this'. So, here we are. For those of you who read the original, I'll let you know that I tweaked a few details, with permission from the original author. **

** Remember, reviews are the life blood of any fanfic. writer. So please drop me one and let me know what you think**

Jack sat staring out his window, propping his cheek on his fist as he glowered out at the world beyond the glass. He watched his father outside, easily discernible from anyone else in the village by his large stature and long white beard – though he was not an old man by any means, barely into his late thirties, he'd had that beard for as long as Jack remembered, making him look like a grandfather more that a dad. The man was packing supplies for his latest hunting trip along with a handful of the other village men, distributing the supplies into packs for each man. As he watched his father grapple with his friend Aster, somewhat of an uncle to Jack, the teenager's mood soured ever more. He should have been out there with them, joking and having fun and getting ready for a hunt. But no; he was stuck in here. Because his father wouldn't let him go. He grumbled when his father turned to look at him and turned his back to the window.

He'd made it very clear when his request to come along was denied that he was never speaking to the man again. Ever. But still the big man lumbered into Jack's room and plopped down next to where the young boy sat hunched away from him. They sat together for some time, Jack doing his best to ignore his father's existence while the man tried to think of a way to talk to his boy.

"How long do you plan to sulk, my boy?" He questioned voice thick with the Russian accent of his native land. Even after fifteen years in their small settlement of Burgess, Nicholas St. North still couldn't quite kick the accent.

"I'm not sulking," Jack objected, still refusing to turn around.

"No, of course not," Nicholas agreed with a chuckle. They lapsed back into silence.

"I don't understand why I can't come!"

Nicholas sighed. It was an argument they'd had many time since he'd told his son he could not accompany him with the hunting party. Jack had yet to come to terms with his father's decision.

"Jack, we have spoken of this. Hunting is not place for a boy."

"I'm not a little boy anymore, dad!" Jack yelled, finally turning to face the man.

The boy's eyes seethed. Sky blue eyes; Nicholas' eyes. The only feature his son had inherited from him, otherwise, the boy just looked like his mother. Dark brown hair, lightly tanned skin and a slim and lanky body that he'd yet to fully grow into. But Jack's eyes were all from his father. And he knew what kind if temper lurked behind those eyes; it was why the two butted heads so often.

"Yes, this I know," he admitted, dragging his meaty hand across his face.

He sighed and looked at his son. He may not have been a little boy, but he was still so small compared to Nicholas. Still so fragile; so young. They had celebrated his fourteenth birthday not even a moon beforehand. And really, Nicholas didn't think he could ever really stop think of Jack as his little boy. And here he was, asking his father to bring him into the most dangerous situation possible.

"But it is too dangerous," he declared, decision made.

"Then you shouldn't go either!"

"We need this."

"Why? We have plenty of food from the farm. Why do we need anything from a hunt that is too dangerous for me?"  
"It is not for us alone but for the village. And until you understand that you will never be ready!" Nicholas shouted, utterly sick of the repeated conversation.

Jack's protest came to a halt, breath leaving in shudder. His father never shouted at him, never even raised his voice, no matter how heated their arguments. Nicholas looked just as shocked, mouth gaping as much as his son's. Jack firmed his quivering bottom lip, jumping to his feet and turning on his heels to stalk away, crossing his arms in a stubborn display. Behind him, his father sighed once more, climbing to his feet.

"I will be back in a fortnight, and we will talk then, yes?" No respond. "I love you, Jack. Very much." Still nothing, and when Nicholas attempted to run a hand through brown locks, Jack shoved him away. Down hearted by the reply, Nicholas stumbled out of the room.

-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-

Outside, Nicholas' wife, Katherine and their small daughter, Emma waited for him, as did the members of his hunting party. He was still heavy in his heart when he went to them, even when his wife kissed him. She eyed him sympathetically when she pulled away, eyes shining in understanding, as always.

"I'll talk to him, dear," she promised, her voice light with the same accent he carried. She gave the man another kiss, "in the mean time, you watch over yourself out there, Nick."

"Always, Kat," he agreed.

Returning his wife's kiss, he moved to their daughter. Emma clung to his neck when he lifted her, laughing all the while. Like Jack, Emma was the spitting image of their mother. She was a teeny tiny version of Katherine, and Nicholas loved her all the more for it. He placed a kiss on her brow before placing her back on the ground, this time crouching to her level.

"I'll give Jack a good kick," the ten year old swore, crossing her heart. North smiled and held a hand up as Katherine began to reprimand the girl.

"I think your mother can handle that fine. But, you watch boy, yes? You know mischief he gets into."

The girl nodded and promised. Nicholas laughed, gave his daughter another kiss and did the same for his wife. Then he turned back to the house where Jack was still pouting in the window. When he caught his father gaze, he turned away hotly, staring at the opposite wall. Nicholas sighed again, and went to join the rest of the party.

"Hey North. You're boy still mad attcha?" Aster asked. Even though Nicholas had taken the name Overland when he and Katherine came to their new home, his friends still referred to him by his given surname and he himself often went by it.

The grey haired Australian was in his late twenties tanned and well muscled from constant work in the fields. He'd come to Burgess about the same time Nicholas and Katherine did, with Jack just on the way. They had been close ever since. The man sighed and nodded, glancing back at his home once more.

"Don' worry about it. Ya know how teenagers are."

"No, I do not."

"Oh, then yer in fer a rough learnin' patch, mate," Aster informed with a laugh.

North slumped at the thought. Jack had become quite the stubborn teenager in recent years. He honestly didn't know how much more he could take. At the light pat on his thigh North looked down, his gaze meeting the sympathetic golden eyes of the short blonde to his left. Sanderson, or Sandy as he had somehow become known, was one of the oldest settlers in the area. And though he was mute since birth, the man was incredibly well liked in the area. He was as much an uncle to North's children as Aster had become.

"Thank you, my friend," he said, clapping the small man on the back.

"Don' worry, mate. He'll understand one day," Aster assured, placing a hand on the larger man's shoulder.

North looked back to his family, to where Jack still sat at his window.

"I truly hope not," he admitted.

No matter how hard the conflict over Jack's lack of understanding was, he never wanted the boy to understand. He could never put his little boy in the situation he and the other men constantly faced. There was a reason many of them never came back from these trips. No matter how much it tore at their relationship, North could never allow Jack to understand. Turning back to the sympathetic gazes of his friends, he smiled and made his way over to the rest of their company.

"Alright, we move out. With any luck we will be able to bring back really meat to our families." At the collective cheer of agreement, North set off into the trees

Sending one last glance to his family, he disappeared into the darkness of the woods. He truly hoped they would come home with meat. Otherwise it would be very difficult to explain why they always had to be away from home for such long stretches of time.

**Yeah, I borrowed Katherine from the books for North's wife. It jumped out at me as I was writing. And while people like to use Pippa for Jack's sister, I prefer Emma or Mary. So yeah. **

**Remember: Review, life blood. Hope you enjoyed.**


	2. Chapter 2

It was a three day march deep into the forest until they reached their destination. Three brutal days of trekking through the dense jungle surrounding their home. But they made it. No trouble, no casualties. It was a good start, in North's opinion.

"This is where disturbance was reported. We make camp here," he announced when they came to a clearing in the trees, dropping his pack.

Turning at the collective sigh of relief as his men dropped to the ground, North studied the trees, and the shadows within. He felt more than saw Aster move to join him. The younger man crossed his arms and studied the trees the same way as North, a frown worrying his face.

"What are we up against here, North?" he asked finally, sneaking a glance at his friend.

"Do not know. Does not matter." North returned Aster's glance.

"We will defeat threat when it shows its ugly face."

"Damn right we will!" Aster agreed with a laugh, slapping North on the back, a confident smirk on his face as he turned back to the others to help set up camp.

North smiled at his younger friend's enthusiasm and turned back to the trees, a feeling of unease that he couldn't place settling in his gut. They would destroy whatever threatened their home; they always did. It had been that way for years, beginning shortly after the first settlement of their village. _Things_ had begun to attack the village, viciously, killing any out after dark. First they were thought to be overly bold animals –but they weren't, no animal was like that _nothing was_—

North shook himself back to the present, regaining his train of thought. They had and always would protect their village, and the people who lived there. But the big man had a feeling something very wrong was happening back home. He felt it, in his belly.

-Line Break –Line Break –Line Break-

It had been six days since North and the hunting party had set out. Almost a week and Jack still hadn't stopped his pouting. He sulked as he did his chores around the house and farm. Moped when he went into town; he kept the sour look on his face when he went to bed. And during dinner on the sixth night of his perpetual pouting, Emma decided to take action.

She threw her bread roll at him, hitting him in the face. Which earned her a sulky glare from her sibling.

"Your face will freeze like that," she accused. Katherine rolled her eyes and Jack sputtered.

"It will not!"

"Will too. You better stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting."

"Yes you are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"_Am not_!"

"Are too!"

"Mom!"

"Children," Katherine warned with a sigh. Oh the joys of having two opinionated children.

"Jack, you cannot keep this up."

"It's not fair!" Jack complained, going back to his sulking.

"Sweetie, you're too young to go with them."

"Aster went when he was my age! Boasts about it all the time, how he's still the youngest in the group."

"Oh, that's what this is about," Katherine sighed, rubbing her temples.

Aster was not only a type of adopted uncle to Jack, but also a big brother. They were best friends, co-terror creators, close as any blood kin. They were also the most stubborn of rivals. Anything Aster did Jack had to do. And be ten times better at it. Aster was the same with anything Jack was good at. It was a constant source of stress and pounding migraines. Any time on out did the other, this sulking went on for weeks.

"Jack," she had to tread carefully here. One wrong moved could lead to a tantrum that would last a month, at least. Her boy was very stubborn when it came to mourning any wrong he thought was done on him.

"You and Aster….. are very similar," she decided, watching his reaction. "But you are not the same. What Aster was like at your age is not how you are," and now the hard part, "you are not ready to go out."

Jack kicked the table leg and exploded, declaring 'that's stupid!' as he kicked the leg again and again, shaking the table and the food on its surface. And Katherine decided it was enough.

"Don't speak to me that way," she snapped. "And stop kicking my table!"

Jack yanked his foot back and shrank into the back of his chair. While his mother may have yelled at him more frequently than his father – almost all the time, to be honest – it didn't make it any less frightening, especially when she turned the Look on him. Luckily he was saved from being fried under the Look by a loud crash outside.

"Dingle got out again," Emma chimed, looking up from her intense focus on her food. She hated it when Mama yelled.

"Oh that damn horse. I don't know why your father insists on keeping it," Katherine grumbled.

"I'll get him mom!" Jack declared, jumping out of his chair so fast it nearly fell over. He dashed over to the door, pulling on his cloak and boots as quickly as he could.

"Don't think you've avoid this conversation, Jack," his mother warned.

Jack forced down a curse and quelled the impulse to slam his fist on the door frame. He glanced over his shoulder, gave a call of his understanding and jogged outside to find his father's horse.

They had two horses in their stables, and Dingle was his father's favorite. Jack never understood why. Dingle was stubborn, didn't let anyone but North ride him, was a terrible work horse, and really, kind of stupid. But North loved him. And every time North left the village, Dingle fussed and kicked at the fence until he got out.

Well, Jack thought, at least he always went to the same place. Jack moved through the trees with ease, much more limber and at home in the woods than anyone else in his village. Much better at forest trekking than _Aster_, he thought with a smirk. Ah, and there was Dingle, at the lake where he always was. Bet Aster couldn't have found Dingle that quickly. The thought made him smile.

Jack moved to the horse slowly and quietly; spooking a horse was never a good idea, something his father taught him very early on.

"Hey there, Dingle," he said softly when he came up next to the horse. He wasn't a bad looking horse, Jack had to admit; he had a very beautiful reddish-brown coat over powerful muscles. Didn't make him any less stupid or annoying, though.

"Look, I know you love it here, boy. I do too, but we need to head back now." The horse only snorted and bent down to drink from the lake.

Jack sighed and patted the horse's neck, sinking to the ground and looking around the lake. It really was beautiful here. Serene, dazzling; it was Jack's favorite place to go and get away. If there was a fight with his parents, Aster, or if he felt overwhelmed, Jack always came here to feel better.

He wondered how Aster and his dad were doing out there. He sat there thinking of the two for a while before he looked up and realized the sun had begun to sink as he wandered through the woods and was lost in his thoughts. That wasn't good, his mom was probably worried sick with him out so long.

"Come on, Dingle, time to go home," he sighed, moving to his feet. He grabbed the horse's reigns and led him through the trees. "I have to go get my head chewed off," he added in a mumble, smiling when Dingle nuzzled his head.

Okay, he conceded while he stroked the horse's nose, maybe Dingle wasn't so bad. He gave a laugh when the horse nipped at his pockets. He shoved the head away, and it only made Dingle more persistent to get at his pant pockets.

"I don't have any food," he told the horse with a laugh, pushing the wandering mouth away more firmly. "If you hadn't run away, you wouldn't be hungry," he informed, raising his brow, feeling happier than he'd been in almost a week.

He _had_ been sulking, he realized, smile slipping away. Man, now he had to apologize to his mom. He _hated_ that. Oh well, she was right and he'd been a brat. Time to diffuse the tension in the house.

He was almost to the village when he saw a shadow dart in the side of his vision. He put a calming hand on Dingle's neck when the horse started to fuss, eyes darting in panic. He shushed the animal and crept into the pushes where the shadow had gone. Peeking through the branches, Jack froze and held his breath.

In front of him, not a foot away, was a line of men, on horseback and on foot. They were dressed in all black, their horses the same color, all so dark the blended into the night. They were all staring at his village. Jack felt his stomach drop when the men drew their swords, gleaming in the moon light.

"Take as many as you can," the man on the center horse ordered, "kill any who resist."

Jack felt his heart sink into his stomach as the men moved forward, toward the village, _his_ village. He waited for them to leave trying to control his breathing, his muscles tensed and begging to run, his heart pounding so loud he was afraid someone would hear. And when the last remaining man, the one who'd given the orders, turned to where he was hiding he stopped breathing altogether, terrified someone _had_ heard him. The man gave a few tentative sniffs to the air, then took a deep breathe through his nose, throwing his head back. Jack saw a terrifying smile as the man looked back at the bush, then let out a sigh of relief when the man rode off. To… his village. Right, not good.

Jack took a calming breathe and dashed back to Dingle. He swung onto the horse's back and grabbed the reigns. There was no saddle, but it wasn't too much a problem, he'd learned to ride bareback long ago. It was just more of a pain.

"Come on, Dingle, we've gotta get back!" he urged, spurring the horse forward.

Jack didn't know if Dingle was just responding to the urgency in his voice or if the horse really understood what was going on. Either way Dingle rushed forward at Jack's urging, despite the boy not being his preferred rider, racing back to the village.

The village, that was currently on fire.

The buildings crackled as they burned. People ran about in a wild panic, and Jack just watched in horror as the men in black herded them. When a woman was slashed down by a man on horseback Jack jerked back to reality. He needed to get to Emma and his mother. That in mind, he directed Dingle toward his house. It too was on fire, and there was no sign of his family.

"Mom! Emma!" He called as he dismounted. "Mom, Em! Where are you?!"

He ran forward with no thought and it proved to be a mistake. He felt a pair of strong arms wrapped around his torso, lifting him off the ground and dragging him back. He kicked and flailed, clawing at the arms holding him as he tried to kick at the man's legs.

"Put me down! Let me go!"

"Silence, boy!" Jack froze when he felt the cold bite of the sword against his throat. He went completely limp, breathing heavily.

"Jack!" he heard his mother call in terror.

He looked over when the sword at his throat was moved to point at the voice. His mother stood just outside their burning home, looking strong but terrified. Emma cowered behind her, clutching at the skirt of Katherine's dress. The man waved the sword at the two, Jack felt his anger rise and this time when he struggled in the man's hold, it was in attack rather than panic.

The man dropped him when Jack's heel connected with his knee with a sickening crack. The man fell on his side with a cry and Jack scrambled to grab the man's fallen sword. He smacked the butt of the weapon on the man's head, then wacked him twice more after he was unconscious for good measure. Then he dashed over to his mother and sister, sword still in hand.

"Jack!"

"Mom, Em! Are you okay?" He asked when he reached them.

Emma latched herself onto his waist as soon as he was in reach. Katherine wrapped an around Jack's shoulder and pulled him – and by extension, Emma – to her chest.

"What's going on?" Emma asked tearfully, big brown eyes wet with tears when she looked up from where her face was buried on Jack's stomach.

"It's going to be alright," he promised, rubbing the girl's hair.

"We need to get everyone out of here," he said, turning to his mother.

The woman nodded and pulled her children along. They found a number of villagers hiding among the burning buildings, and they all made their way to the trees. There were only a handful of them, only a little over twenty out of the hundreds in the village. But they all made it to the trees, Jack in the lead. Unfortunately, even with their small numbers, they still attracted unwanted attention.

They were surrounded before they even made the tree line, swords all around, people on the edges snatched away. Jack eyed the man in front of the group – the leader – moved forward, that dangerous smile from earlier plastered on his face. He looked Jack over, smiling in amusement at the sword the boy raised to meet him.

"You're a trouble maker, aren't you?" He said, meeting Jack's eyes.

Jack lunged forward in response, ignoring his mother's cry of concern, blade meeting the other man's. The other men cheered their leader on as they herded more and more of the group away. Jack gave everything he could in the fight, the sword shaking in his hand with every strike. North had been very persistent in teaching Jack to fight, specifically with swords. The man would often dazzle his young son with stories from his homeland (North was something like a Russian pirate – or, _bandit_, as he put it) while he trained the younger Jack with in the use of the most basic weapons. It certainly paid off now, and he was pretty skilled with a blade. But the man was far better, and Jack was losing ground fast.

His sword was knocked from his hand when another man grabbed him from behind. The leader slashed at him once more, leaving a long gash from the center of his chest to his left shoulder. He vaguely heard Katherine shout in terror as the lackey threw him to the side. Jack brought a trembling hand to his shoulder and it came back slick with blood. The cut was shallow, but it still bled profusely and Jack felt sick at the sight of it.

Pain bloomed through his lower chest when the lackey delivered a swift to his ribs and rolled the teenager onto his back. He heard his mom begging for the man to stop in between calls for her son from where one of the other men held her with a sword against her throat. The lackey above him raised his weapon, ready to plunge the blade into his vulnerable chest. He should have been afraid, the shouts from his mother certainly suggested it, but he was too shocked from the blood leaking from his shoulder to feel much of anything.

"Hold it," the leader called as the lackey prepared to pierce Jack's exposed chest. He swiped a dab of Jack's blood from the flat of the blade with his thumb, smearing it between the pads of his fingers as he studied it.

"But sir, you said—"

"I'm aware of what I said. But we'll be needing him; so get him up!" He ordered.

"Yes, Captain," the lackey answered, pulling Jack roughly to his feet.

Jack struggled weakly as the man tied his hands behind his back, aggravating his wound. He slowly came back to himself as he was marched to the others of his village, tied together by the hands, like cattle. He flailed in the lackey's gripped, throwing his head back so it flopped against his captor's mid-chest. The lackey responded with a harsh hit to the head, making Jack see stars.

"I greatly desire to kill this insolent little shit, sir," Jack heard the lackey call to the captain as the leader mounted his horse.

"Bailee that!

"In fact, I'll be taking him," the captain declared, scooping Jack up and on the horse by the waist. The moved jostled his gash, sending a bolt of pain through his chest that left him panting and exhausted.

"He won't be able to walk with that shoulder and we can't have him dying on the way. Now send the crop on their way, we're moving out," he ordered with finality.

He urged his horse forward, leaving the lackey grumbling none too happily behind him. Jack blinked back the exhaustion and the lingering ringing in his ears from the blow to the head, focusing on his surroundings. Then he put what little reserves of strength he had into struggling.

"Get your hands off me! Let go of –ack!" Jack's words were cut off by the tight hand around his throat.

Dark flowers bloomed around his vision as the captain pulled Jack's head back to rest on his shoulder.

"I am the reason you're still alive right now," he snarled, breathe hot on the shell of Jack's ear. "So shut up and do as I say, you hear?"

The grip on his throat vanished, leaving Jack gasping and chocking. The captain kept a firm hold on Jack's waist as the dark horse trotted forward, passing the line of villagers as they were marched forward. Jack may not have been able to escape, or have had anywhere to go if he was able to, but that didn't mean he was going to make things any easier for the man. He tested the roped on his wrists as he twisted in the captain's grip, hoping to loosen one or the other. The man only tightened his grip and pulled Jack more firmly against his chest. With his mobility full restricted, Jack did the only thing he could think of.

"Dad!" He called, jerking pathetically in the strong grip. "DAD! _Daddy, help me please_!"

But the only response was the laughter of the horrible men and their captain as the people were lead away from their smoldering village.

-Line Break –Line Break –Line Break-

North jerked awake in a cold sweat, instantly forgetting what woke him. It had been another three days since they had made camp in this clearing, and every night nightmares had plagued his sleep. None had frightened him like that. But the fear from this one still lingered in his veins, leaving him cold and terrified. Jack, it was something about Jack. His eyes widened as his heart froze. Jack was in trouble.

North jumped to his feet, waking everyone near him as he went to his pack. His boy, his boy was in danger.

"North? North, mate, what are ya doin'?" Aster questioned as lumbered over to the man, still half asleep.

"I must go. We must go back," North muttered as he frantically re-packed his supplies.

"What? North, it's the middle of the night. And we still haven't found the—"

"I don't care!" North exploded, turning to his friend and grasping the younger man's arm in desperation.

"Something is wrong. I've known something was wrong since left village and now….now fear something awful has happened. Happened to my boy," he said in a whisper.

Aster the older man for a moment, concerned for both North and the possibility that something had gone back home; they took almost all of the able bodied with them on the trips, the village would be near defenseless in an attack. It sounded insane, like the ramblings of a madman. But Aster had learned over the years to trust North and his instincts. His belly, as the big man loved to put it.

"Alright, I suppose we're headed out then. Let's move!" He called to the other men who were either still asleep or watching.

North finished packing and lifted the pack to his shoulder, ready to head out even if it was without his men. Something was happening and they needed to get home. He looked down at the tug on his sleeve. Sandy looked up at him in concern; not in the concern that the man was losing his mind, like the other men were shooting their leader as they packed, but concern for what had him worried so.

"Something is wrong; I know it," North whispered, clutching his sabers – his weapons of choice on these trips – as he began to pace. "I fear we may have left them exposed with this journey. I fear we may have left them vulnerable to the monsters."

Sandy nodded in understanding, looking just as concerned as North. They had learned long ago that the monsters of nightmares were quite real. And it was never good to be vulnerable to them.

All that was left to do was head home. And pray he was wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

They were too late. North knew it the moment he stumbled out of the woods and they saw the woman lying at their feet. She was clearly dead; they all knew it even as Sandy rushed to check her, slashed through the heart. North hardly paid her any mind; couldn't has he numbly made his way to what remained of the village. They were too late. They had walked through the night, finishing a three day journey by sun rise. But still, the village was reduced to ashes, the people were gone and they were too late. In his guilty and horrified musings, he somehow wandered to his smoldered home, and after a moment of staring at it in dazed terror he charged into the smoking pile.

"Jack! My boy, answer me!" he begged. "Kat! Emma, please!"

He tore throw burnt wood as he yelled. He didn't care that his voice was hysterical and that his family couldn't be among the wreckage. They had to be there they had to be there, where were they?! Where was his family? They couldn't have been too late for them. Please, let them not be too late for his family!

"North," Aster called, taking in the sad sight of North calling for his family as he threw bits of charred wood about. "North, we found survivors. They're holed up in house on the edge; it's relatively untouched, they seem fine."

"My boy? Emma, Kat?" North asked, grasping Aster's forearms as he begged for answers.

"Ah don't know, mate. The others are with them, Ah went ta get ya."

North raced forward, pulling Aster along and demanding the younger man to give directions. Please, please be there. He needed his family to be alright. They came to the cottage Aster spoke of in seconds, charred but still standing. North hardly took the time to look it over before he busted right in. There was only a handful of people huddled inside, no more than thirty not counting the men in the hunting party.

"Jack, Katherine! My family, is my family here, please?" He asked, shaking the first person he came across. The man wouldn't meet his gaze. No one would. "Please."

"Nicholas."

"Manny. My family?" He asked, letting the poor by stander go as he turned the stout man.

Manfred Lunanoff was the eldest man in the village, and by extension its unspoken leader. He was in his late fifties, and showed no signs of leaving them any time soon. Despite his short stature, barely reaching North's mid-chest, the man was strong. A thin crop of white hair sat on his rounded head; his face was equally round, kind and trustworthy. North respected him greatly.

"I'm sorry, Nicholas," Manny said in answer.

North deflated. He should have known. There was no sign of his family anywhere in the house, and they would have been impossible to miss among such a small crowd. But still, he'd hoped.

"Your son put up an impressive fight, but still he was taken. Along with your wife and daughter, and most of the village."

North had to smile proudly despite the disheartening news. Of course Jack would go down fighting, trying to protect his loved ones. That was his boy.

"And I'm afraid we have worse news yet," Manny continued.

"What could be _worse_?" Aster objected.

"That without the people taken – many of them our farmers, tradesmen—we will not be able to function." He let that sink in, meeting Aster's and then North's gazes.

"Without them, we will not make it through winter."

Oh. Yeah, that was about as bad as thing could possibly get. North ran a hand over his tired face. God, he felt so exhausted; he couldn't deal with this right now. But it had to be dealt with. And now was the only time.

"Then we will get them back," he demand, putting as much strength as he could behind it.

Even if he had to do it alone, he would get them back.

-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-

They'd been going for hours, through the day and into the following night. An entire day since they'd been taken and they still hadn't stopped. Jack was lightheaded and woozy the entire time, and the bouncing of the horse he rode wasn't helping his nausea. His chest and shoulder throbbed horribly and his head was worse. When were they going to stop?! He slumped forward, bending over the arm that held him and rested his forehead against the ebony neck of the horse. It was then that they finally stopped, just as the moon was rising.

"Let's make camp here!" The captain announced, pulling the march to a halt.

He dismounted, pulling Jack off once he was on the ground and scooped the boy into his arms bridal style. Jack wasn't entirely happy with the position, but he was too lightheaded and tired to put up a fight. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he could still see the tied villagers being separated into small groups and tethered to various posts, either trees or poles staked into the ground, as tents were set up for their abductors. He blinked lazily up at the man carrying him, and could only think of _dark_ as a description. Black hair, dark eyes, even his skin – which was actually very, very pale— looked dark in the shadow of the hood he still wore. Jack couldn't really tell why, but all the dark made him very uneasy, even in his haze of blood loss.

"Alright then, let's get that looked at, yeah?" He suggested cheerfully as he placed Jack on the ground.

The captain slowly and carefully peeled the bloody shirt away, pulling it over Jack's head and down to his still bound hands, where it bunched at his forearms. And again, Jack did not take too kindly to the action. Only this time he didn't put up with the man, and weakly kicked out at his leg.

"Now, now, none of that," the captain chided.

He slapped a heavy hand to Jack's injured shoulder and slowly kneaded his finger painfully into the flesh of his shoulder positioning his hand so the palm put painful pressure on the slash. Jack winced and cried out the grip increased and his shoulder felt as if it was set on fire.

"I don't have to be so nice, little boy," the man growled in Jack's ear, digging the heel of his hand into the cut, making the teenager scream.

"If you don't want to bleed to death, or die of infection, you best be on your best behavior. Understand?"

Jack nodded eagerly, blinking back tears of pain. He sighed in relief when the pressure receded. The captain nodded in approval, then went to gather rapping gauze and a bottle of alcohol.

"Drink this, you'll need liquids," he ordered, pushing a cup of water to his lips.

Jack hesitated but drank, not wanting to anger the man into hurting him further. He gave a pained hiss as the man touched at his wound.

"Ow, that's a nasty one." The captain winced in sympathy, like he _hadn't_ been the one to cause it. "We better clean it up."

Jack really didn't like the obvious joy the man took in his pain, or the delighted expression he wore whenever he looked at the gash. Jack swore he actually _sniffed_ it a few times as he was cleaning it out. But he kept his mouth shut, letting only a few pained hisses out as he rubbed the alcohol into the gash, cleaning any potential infection out. Then he wrapped the wound and pulled the bloody shirt back over his head.

"I want to see my family," Jack demanded softly after a time.

"I don't see why not." The man cut the bonds on Jack's hands and repositioned them in front of him and retied them. "No more horsey rides for you," he teased, ruffling Jack's hair.

Jack gave a wine and shoved the hand away, but didn't fight as he was dragged away by his bound wrists, eyes on the ground. It was only a day, and already Jack didn't know how much more of this he could take. At a worried and relieved call from his mother he looked up. Katherine and Emma were tied to the base of a tree in front of him, terrified but unharmed. Jack's hands were bound to the tree as well and he was forced to his knee beside his family.

"Now, get some sleep." He ordered, messing Jack's hair again. "All of you. We move at first light.

With that he stalked off, leaving the three only. Jack sighed and slumped against the tree, closing his aching eyes. He forced one heavy eye open when he felt a slight weight settle against him. Emma curled up to his best she could, nuzzling him for comfort as she often would when she was frightened. He smiled down at her—or, well, tried to; his face didn't quite want to go through with it –and met his mother's worried gaze as she looked him over.

"Are you alright?" Katherine asked, eying his bloodied shoulder.

"I'm fine. They treated it," he assured.

"Why are they doing this?" Emma's voiced was small and frightened next to him and he scrambled for a response.

"Because they're bad men, baby," Katherine said, meeting her daughter's eyes and sending her a warm and comforting look.

"And bad men do terrible things just because they can," she explained.

Emma's little face screw up as she tried to process her mother's explanation. It was adorable, the way her nose scrunched up. It made Jack smile warmly, for real this time.

"But….. Papa will find us and he'll stop them. Because he's a good man, right?"

Now Katherine was at a loss as she looked at her daughter's hopeful face. How could she assure her child of she something knew, logically, was wrong, impossible? And at the same time, how could she crush that hopeful little face and the undying faith Emma held in her father? But this time it was Jack who came up with the answer.

"Of course he will, Em. That's what he does."

And it was something Jack had no problem confirming. Because he believed it. His father could do anything, move mountains, control the heavens, anything! And he could do it because he was Jack's dad. It was that simple.

He looked to his mom, trying to encourage the same confidence he and Emma had. All he got was a sad look and a suggestion to go to sleep. He did so with no problem – it was an exhausting day, after all – sorely confused. Dad would find them, wouldn't he? He would move heaven and earth to get to them. How could he do anything else?

Jack jerked awake late in the night, shaken and confused to what woke him. Then he heard it again; a high pitched, frightened shriek from in the darkness to their right. He huddled closer to his mother, who shifted her weight to press more steadily against his. She was staring in the direction of the screams, which had already faded away, obviously woken the same way he was.

"What was that?" He asked in a frightened whisper.

She looked to him and tried to smile comfortingly. It came out as more of a frightened grimace, so Jack huddled closer, both for her comfort and for his.

"I don't know, Jack. But it going to be alright," she promised.

She settled back against the tree and closed her eyes. Jack tried to do the same, but couldn't stop staring into the darkness. He wasn't so sure _anything_ was going to be okay.

The next morning they were yanked away from trees and out of slumber at the beginning of dawn. Jack blinked awake, glaring sleepily at the captain as the man pulled him up. They weren't kidding about moving at first light, he though with a groan.

He stumbled as he was yanked forward, tethered to his mother, and Emma tethered to him. They were all bound, wrists to waist, all the way up the line.

"Told you, no more horse-back ride," the captain joked.

Jack snarled and spit in the man's face as he moved to ruffled Jack's hair again. He really hated that. The captain scowled and swiped the saliva away. Then the back of his hand met Jack's cheek with a loud smack, sending Jack reeling and making him taste blood.

"I also said I don't have to be so nice. Don't test me," he warned, growling in Jack's face.

The captain cupped the boy's smaller face, running a thumb over Jack's bottom lip. He smeared the small dab of blood from where Jack had bitten his lip with the pad of his thumb, mixing it with saliva until it covered his thumb. Jack shuddered and glared. Why did the man insist on touching him?

"We're moving out!" he shouted, spurring the line forward.

"Behave, now. Otherwise, I'll have to kill you before you can perform your higher purpose," he added, speaking only to Jack, wiping the blood and spit on his thumb on Jack's cheek.

Jack wrenched away with an annoyed groan. He glared at the man's back as he walked away laughing, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder until the wetness on his cheek vanished. He pondered the man's words. 'Higher purpose'. What did that mean?

"Jack, don't aggravate these people," Katherine warned, glancing at him over her shoulder, her voice snapping him back to reality.

"I know, mom," Jack sighed. He glanced up and down the line, brow furrowed in concern.

"Mom, did you see the Johnsons at all?" he asked after a moment.

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson weren't exactly close Jack's parents, but they knew each other. Then again, that wasn't overly spectacular; everyone in the village knew each other. But their son was around Jack's age, so two spent time together, even if they didn't particularly like each other. And their families also hung around each other by default, so they were easily recognizable, even among the crowd. They were defiantly captured as well; Jack had seen them near his mom and Emma. But he hadn't seen any sign of them this morning.

"I haven't seen most of the people here, honey," Katherine countered, but Jack could hear the uneasy in her voice. She knew something was wrong, too.

Before he could question her further, they were jerked forward, and the march continued. The motioned aggravated Jack's wound and he winced. When was this going to stop?

I wanted to go home, he thought, tears clogging his throat. Oh did he want to go home. He wanted his dad.

-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-

The remaining villagers were in a panic, terrified at the idea of death at winter's hands. Many of them were too old to attempt any rescue. The rest were wounded, or too young. And they were not going to take the men from the hunting party; not after this. And so that left North. At least he was already packed. All that was left now was to grab a few more supplies and his weapons.

"Figured ya'd try this."

North jumped from where he crouched jamming the last of the food he could afford to take at Aster's voice. He turned to face the younger man, who stood in the door way. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, an annoyed scowl on his face. North tried not to cringe in guilt at the look; he had nothing to feel guilty for.

"Do not try to stop me," North warned with a glare. "I am going to save my family."

"Course ya are. And Ah can' just let ya go off half-cocked alone, now can Ah," he said, shouldering his own pack.

North felt his glare melt away, his heart warmed and touched. He pushed the feeling down with a sigh. This was his mission; a dangerous one that he couldn't risk anyone else on.

"Aster, I cannot ask you to do this."

"Good thing yer not askin'"

"The village needs you, we cannot leave it so unguarded a second time.

"Every other man here will guard them with their lives. The village will be fine."

"Aster, I will not have you risk yourself for my family."

"Don't give me that, North!" Aster snapped.

He gave them man a dark glare for even thinking to say such a thing. North stumbled back, both at the tone and the look that followed. Aster took a calming breath and looked toward North a sympathetic look.

"North, Ah love them. Ah love them as much you do.

"You and Kat took me in when ya had no reason ta," he continued despite North's flabbergasted expression. "Took care of me in a strange new place when Ah had no one else; gave me someone ta count on. Ah've known yer ankle-bitter since before they could crawl. Ah watched Em take her first steps, say her first word. Ah practically grew up with Jackie!

"Ah love you all—you, Kat, Jackie, Em. More than anything. They're my family too, North."

Aster turned away, blinking back the sting of tears, and North wiped away his own while the younger man wasn't looking. Aster wasn't usually one for emotional spiels. But wow, he could sell his point. North had never thought of it that way, which now that he thought about it was rather thick of him. He smiled, placing a hand on Aster shoulder.

"Then we will get them back, yes?"

Aster's head snapped around as he stared at the man, startled. Then he smiled, a he clapped the big man on the opposite shoulder.

"Yea, let's go. Besides, let's face it; ya'd wind up on the other side of the world without me." He laughed when North scowled at him. The man couldn't track anything to save his life.

The two set out of the house, almost tripping over Sandy as they laughed. The little man stood before them with his own pack, face determined and arms crossed stubbornly. North let out a breath that was half laugh and half sigh. Why did he think he would have to, or even _could_ go off on his own for this?

"Is there any reason to try and talk you out of coming?" North asked smiling as the tiny man shook his head.

"Best of luck to all of you."

The three turned to face the voice, where Manny stood with a proud smile.

"We will bring them back, Manny," North assured.

The older man nodded, but his smile dropped as he watched them go. He was the one to train them to protect their home from the things that stalked it in the night, and they were good, formidable. But he had the sinking feeling that they were up against something he hadn't prepared them to face.


End file.
